


just hold on, here i come

by sky_blue_hightops



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Older Sibling Rapunzel (Disney), Team Awesome (Disney: Tangled), Touch-Starved, Varian Needs a Hug (Disney), thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25420453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: Prison sucked.***Or, touch starved Varian.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Varian, Lance Strongbow & Varian, Rapunzel & Varian (Disney), Ruddiger & Varian (Disney)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 239





	just hold on, here i come

Prison sucked.

He wasn’t about to sugarcoat it, but he wasn’t gonna get into all the details, either. Prison was horrible, and really lonely, and quite possibly held the darkest days of his life. (The fact that he had a list of dark days was...probably concerning, if he thought about it, but he didn’t _do_ concern - he swore - so it all really worked out in the end.)

And a side effect? Well. Let’s just say the hugs he’d gotten after Rapunzel had freed his dad were...the first in a very long time. He still remembered the way the hands on his shoulders, his back, his face had been so _warm_. Almost burning, almost too much, and it had nothing to do with Rapunzel’s magic or the melted amber. Soft unlike the stone under his knees, comforting and protecting and everything he’d needed for so _long_. And then over the course of the rest of that wild time in his life (see: getting kidnapped and helping to save an entire kingdom??), he’d gotten a few more moments like that. Safe. Healing.

It’d been good enough for a while, he thought, but once everything calmed down and he’d settled into a nice routine at the castle (inventing, exploding, remembering to take care of his mortal body, a little more exploding) a numbness had spread under his skin. Everyone was busy, _he_ was busy, and silly things like...wanting hugs? Yeah. Not a super priority. Not over defense mechanisms or improved cleaning products.

So, he supposed, he shouldn’t have been surprised that his friends noticed.

* * *

Varian carefully, gingerly set down a vial of some highly reactive substance. The subsequent surprise bear hug, then, was a _very_ close call. 

“Rapunzel?” He mumbled, face squished into her shoulder. The angle was a little awkward, with how hasty the lead up had been, but the knot at the base of his head immediately unraveled a little and he sighed lightly.

“Yes?” She asked, sweetly, innocently. A little too much of both, if he thought about it. Suspicious.

“Whaaat exactly are you doing?”

“Saying hi!” She answered brightly, and squeezed harder. It felt _amazing_. He curled in further, hands raising to hug her back. That was enough to convince her that it was okay, probably, because with that she lifted him off his feet and spun around wildly. He couldn’t help but laugh, letting his legs swing and holding on for dear life. 

She spun a few more times before setting him back on his feet, but even then she didn’t let go. She just... _held_. The longer they stood there, the more he relaxed, until he didn’t remember when exactly his eyes had closed and she’d begun to sway lightly. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly, one hand warm on the back of his head. He hummed, nodded, and accepted the contact as it was given. 

Everything was pure peace, for a few moments. It was a sense of calm he hadn’t truly felt in a while. “You can ask for this any time, you know,” she whispered. There was no judgement in the way she enveloped him, in how he held her back. Just the implication of _I’m here for you_ and _I love you_.

“Yeah,” he smiled, and tucked his head further under her chin. “I know.”

* * *

Further unsurprising was Eugene’s overly loud and overly confident entrance to his lab a couple days after. The door swung open and cracked against the wall (startling both the alchemist and his poor, napping, unsuspecting raccoon), and then there was a taller presence peering over his shoulder and poking haphazardly at test tubes. Varian squinted up at Eugene, swatting at the hand ruffling his hair and the one currently very ambitiously toeing the _good lab safety_ line. “ _Eugene_ -” he complained, ducking, to no avail. “Did you need something or are you just here to bother me?”

“Bother you,” Eugene replied smugly. “Is it working?”

“Oh, yes, definitely,” he grumbled. The hand in his hair turned into his head being used as an armrest, and he kicked lightly at Eugene’s shoe. “Get off before you crush me.” For a second, he thought Eugene would oblige. Then the arm just shifted to drag him into Eugene’s side, and he yelped before sighing and slumping into the hold. “You too, huh?” Ruddiger chirped happily and scampered up Varian’s arm to his head, using Eugene’s arm like a bridge before flopping around the man’s neck. Traitor.

“Aw, a little extra hugging never hurt anyone,” Eugene grinned, well-meaning in his teasing. “You looked like you needed it. Hey, I need it! Win-win. Now shut up and tell me more about what we’re gonna explode.”

“I never said _anything_ about-” The unamused look he got in reply made him reconsider. “Okay, okay, you know what, _fine,_ here, take this and go wild. You’re helping me clean up. You’re _not_ allowed to get Ruddiger goopy because I _just_ gave him a bath yesterday. Finally-” He waved a finger in Eugene’s face, before his face shifted into a mischievous grin. “If we use the launcher, it’ll go farther.”

The excited hair ruffle was enough to knock his goggles loose, and he protested loudly. “Now _that’s_ what I like to hear, kiddo!” Eugene crowed and punched the air triumphantly with the test tube. “Courtyard or roof?”

“Better do the roof,” Varian said and winced, recalling the mess he still hadn’t cleaned up from his last...tests in the garden. It was a particularly stubborn compound, okay? He’d find a chemical to counter it... _sometime_...

Eugene rolled his eyes. “Six flights of stairs it is. And...hey, c’mere.” Varian looked up and set down his beaker, snorting at Eugene’s open arms but crashing into him for a full hug anyways. Eugene’s hugs were as comforting as Rapunzel’s, but in their own right - solid where she was soft, shielding over supportive. He felt his heartbeat slow slightly, and the numbness gave way to a warmth that made his skin feel a little more like his own. When they finally pulled away, it was to share a smile. “Ready to have some fun?”

“Pfft, is that _even_ a question?”

* * *

“Pass the sugar?”

Varian hefted the bag over, stabbing the measuring scoop back into the mound of white granules. “Two cups, right?”

Lance nodded, running a finger down the list of ingredients. “Two, but two and a half if you’re feeling generous,” he added with a wink. Varian shook his head with a small smile, shaking out two heaping cups of sugar and dumping them into the bowl, before grinning and flicking some extra in. 

“A little more’s good in baking, not handling highly dangerous chemicals,” he defended himself. “...Is it vanilla next?”

“You got it,” his baking partner replied. “Then the eggs, which we stir, and finally the flour and baking powder. Mix enough to make it smooth, but not too much so that it’s tough.” Lance handled his baking lessons with about an inverse amount of patience as he did with science experiments, which was _maybe_ the only reason Varian trusted him in the kitchen. He had to admire the respect with which the man treated his culinary projects. Getting to appreciate the end result was, y’know, a minor benefit. (And spend time with his friend. Which he would never admit even on the threat of death. Varian had a carefully constructed image balanced between annoyed, unamused, and affectionate that he had to keep up.)

He carefully dragged the bag of flour closer, resisting the urge to just thrust his hands into the soft powder. “And then we wait?”

A deep, depressed sigh. “And then we wait.”

Finishing the recipe took no more than another half hour, between mixing and stirring and scooping and cleaning. Hopping up onto the cleared counter to rest his feet was a welcome relief, and he swung them lightly and munched on the small bit of dough Lance had pinched off for him. Lance settled next to him, leaning back on the counter and pressing their shoulders together, his own bite of dough in his palm. “You doin’ okay, kid?”

He pressed back. The point of contact was welcome, soothing in its own way, and he took a second to just soak it in. Quieter afternoons in the kitchen with Lance had become a regular thing whenever both of them were in the castle and had a free hour or so, and he began to look forwards to the times their schedules coincided about every other week. Sometimes you just _had_ to get your hands dirty with egg and flour, chatting mindlessly with a friend while you did so, and he knew he could count on Lance to take his already crazy ideas further. (No more letting him handle chemicals. Or leaving him alone with chemicals. Or do anything with them, at all. Lance’s input firmly remained verbal only.)

The question ran deeper than just four words, and he hummed absently. This was...good. He _was_ okay. He was doing better. The tension bled easier from his shoulders. He found himself smiling more often, surrounded by friends. _Family_.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied softly, finally. “I am now.” Lance’s answering grin was more than enough of a response, and he tilted his head towards Lance’s shoulder.

* * *

Varian jolted awake in bed.

The last dregs of the nightmare slipped from his grasp. He sat, alone in the dark, chest heaving, before flopping back onto his side and curling into the sheets. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, and he grimaced at the sticky feeling of sweat on his face and neck.

Something... bright, he thought. Too bright, too close, too much. The details were already lost to the haze in his mind, and he growled in frustration and punched his pillow. Remembering his nightmares hurt, but sometimes forgetting them hurt _more_. Who had scared him so badly? What was it _this_ time? Would he ever-

A cold nose poked at his neck. He startled, giggling involuntarily, scrunching up his shoulder as Ruddiger clawed his way up onto the pillow and curled completely around Varian’s head. His raccoon’s bushy tail feathered across his shoulders and twitched against his jaw, and he lightly tangled his fingers in the soft fur. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered into the dark. A pair of pale eyes gleamed back.

The nose sniffed at his hair and face, before Ruddiger chittered quietly and tucked his face against Varian’s cheek. Ruddiger’s breath was warm and soft over the bridge of his nose, and Varian didn’t realize he’d been shaking until paws pressed at his shirt and Ruddiger squeezed even closer around him. “Did I wake you up?” He continued, apologetically, but there was no annoyance in his friend’s eyes. Just an expression he’d come to learn meant concern, and maybe a little sleepiness. 

Varian let his eyes drift shut again, exhausted himself. Just having Ruddiger near calmed him, but there was an indescribable feeling of safety he drew from the texture of Ruddiger’s fur and the way his purr seemed to reverberate through them both. They’d spent so many nights like this, from before everything to when it was...just them two, to prison, to everything else. To here. To a better life for them both, even despite the highs and the lows.

He swallowed back sudden tears. “Thanks for sticking with me, bud.” But Ruddiger was already asleep once more, breathing slow and deep, and Varian figured he might as well follow suit.

He slept calmly the rest of the night.

And, if over the coming days (weeks, months, years) he noticed more hands on his shoulders, arms through his, gentle grips dragging him around places, hugs and hair ruffles and little points of contact, well. Perhaps he memorized the feeling of each one, let them chip away at the loneliness that still clung to him; perhaps he held the memories close in the middle of the night, sought out _more_. Perhaps, for once in his life, he let himself accept the love he found himself receiving.

It became easier, with time. Time, support, and his family.

**Author's Note:**

> i thought hey he deserves more hugs and then i realized i have the power to make it happen


End file.
